Article: 261292 of talk.bizarre
From: agarcia@Starbase.NeoSoft.COM (Anthony Garcia)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: December 1st
Date: 1 Dec 1995 00:58:18 -0600
Organization: act or process of organizing or of being organized
Lines: 40
Message-ID: <49m92a$aim@Starbase.NeoSoft.COM>
Keywords: fail to suck
Status: O
X-Status:
It didn't feel like much. As usual. After wiping himself and spraying
Bactine on the scabby spots, Ed began casting his mind around for
something else to do. His gaze began to settle on his computer monitor
("...if not thousands of dollars to send everywhere. Are you sure you
want to do this? [yn]") but he became aware of a soft scratching noise
coming from the box of kittens across the room. A smile broadened on
his face-- maybe there were still some live ones!
--
Puzzled, he flipped the on/off switch several times. Nothing. He
checked the length of the cord several times-- no kinks, no insulation
scraped off. He plugged a lamp in at the wall socket; it shone brightly.
"Honey?" he called. "Could you bring your toolkit in here and take a
look at this thing? I think something's wrong with it."
--
She cursed quietly to herself, for the Nth time. "Goddamn 'automatic'
download. No problem, they said. It's fixed, they said. Chyeah, RIGHT."
Her pager buzzed again, for the Nth time. "At least THAT's running fine."
There would be hell to pay (heh) if the AP job wasn't initialized by 4am.
She sighed and pressed down harder on the gas pedal, I-280 blessedly free
of traffic jams at this hour.
--
Gregor looked down at the city. His gaze lingered on a shellhole in a
street near his old apartment building. That had been his. His mouth
tightened. He had felt so proud, once. But not any more. Taking his
cigarette, he lit the long fuse protruding from the chunk of plastique
in his right hand. He watched it burn for a moment, then dropped it
down the barrel of the 120mm mortar. He stepped backwards away from
it, nearly stumbling over Pulcik's corpse. Pulcik's eyes were still
wide open in astonishment. "What do you mean, no more? Fuck you,
I've still got most of a box left." Seven minutes later, the sound of
the remainder of that box detonating reached him as he strode down the
back of the second hill.
-anthony